Dreams Aren't Reality
by hetalianGemini
Summary: Mentioned Gore, Mentioned Past Relationships, Mentioned Past Mpreg I was almost killed for this work on AO3 and Wattpad oops.


His arm shifted a little in his sleep, the cold metal causing him to jolt into consciousness. Wasn't he just in bed with Edd, Matt, and Tom? Where was he? Did something happen during the night?

"Sir? How are you feeling?" That voice made him jump, unfamiliar to a point. Where did he recognize it from? Turning his head, he felt wires attached to his body, his right side numb and unfeeling. He kept his eyes shut, able to feel some form of cloth wrapped around the right side of his face. He opened and closed his left hand, finding a sort of nakedness along his fingers. Didn't he have a wedding ring? He squeezed his eyelids shut, for a few moments before trying to open them. His right eye didn't seem to be working, but the bright lights in his left certainly didn't help either.

"Don't try to sit up, you're badly wounded. We were lucky that you didn't die the first night after you were brought back unconscious. Can you speak?" Badly wounded? What happened? Did they get into a car accident? Were the other three and the kids alright?

"What happened?" His words seemed to settle the stranger, before they didn't. "Where are my husbands? Are they alright?" The man who was standing above his left side seemed confused.

"Sir? What are you talking about?" What? What was all this about the formal title? Hearing rushing from another part of the room, he relaxed a little bit as he watched the two leaders of the Red Army walk up his left side.

"It's nice to see you awake, Tord. We almost had to give up on you." Give up on him? How long was he out? He couldn't help but chuckle, believing this as some sort of trick.

"What the hell are you talking about? I feel fine. How long was I out?" Moving to push himself up with one arm, he kept looking around the room. He had a smile across his face, laughing softly at the fear-stricken and confused expressions he was given.

"You were in a year long coma, sir. You lost so much blood. Please lay back down." A coma that long!? He's probably worried the other three sick! Especially the kids! Teddy was probably so upset, he was always a mama's boy.

Moving to get up off of whatever medical bed _that_ was, he went looking for wherever his clothes were. He felt the hands grabbing his left arm, pulling him back to the table and up onto it. He flinched as the outer side of his right leg and hip hit the table, finally looking to his right. His neck burned when he twisted his head, like barely healed wounds being stressed. He looked over to where his right arm should've been, only to find the entire limb gone, his shoulder being the only thing that even showed it existed in the first place.

"What year is it? What is today's full date how you remember it." He heard the soft sigh behind the words, but he was still staring at where his arm _should_ be. Feeling a rough hand rubbing against his left shoulder, he tried to gather his bearings.

"April seventeenth twenty-thirty-one." The entire room went silent, showing that it was not only the wrong year, but that he was way off.

"Sir, it's twenty-nineteen. It was the two of us who picked you up from the crash site of the robot a year ago." The robot? Please no, _please_. Please tell him this was all a joke. A late and very elaborate April Fools prank. He could feel his breathing shudder, his chest tighten. This was all an elaborate joke right?! Any moment he'd be pulled into a hug by his family who were hiding. Looking into the faces, there was no joke, no ploy was there trying to trick him. He felt his heart shatter, finally realizing that he was alone, that the entire thirteen years he had gone through were _fake_, his relationship with the other three _fake_, all the troubles and fun were all fake. He could feel a flood of tears running down his left cheek, feeling like he had been crushed between a double decker bus and a cement wall.

He was never pregnant.

He never gave birth to five kids.

Elijah, Delilah, Jonas, Alexander and Harvey never existed. And he was almost certain that the three absolutely hated him for what he had done.

He felt as each presence in the room left, his body finally allowing the heartbroken sobs hit the open air. Here he sat, on an examination table in the medical bay of the Red Army base, his right arm amputated and missing while he was sobbing over a life he had dreamed of and of five children who would never exist.

It had taken a few more weeks for his body to heal from the wounds covering the surface, finally being moved to his private sleeping quarters. His wounds had apparently gotten infected many times while he was in the comatose state, which was why it had taken so long for him to heal up. He wouldn't allow himself on the internet, instead writing in a text document he had hidden in his desktop. He rarely spoke anymore, only doing so to give orders to lower ranking soldiers and to speak with the head doctor on base.

His actions weren't unnoticed, especially by his second in commands. But that didn't matter to him. He didn't want to be bothered, wanted to just forget the other turn of his life. But he couldn't get over it, finally opening a word document on his computer. He couldn't stop himself from typing up the happenings from the beginning, the wording getting better as he continued to write it up. He was typing in English, why he didn't know, but he had gotten used to doing so. He forgot the meaning of time multiple times, ending up unconscious at the most impromptu moments, the time asleep giving him refreshers of all the occurrences.

The moment he reached a point where there were more names than people he truly knew anymore, he guessed there wasn't anything against looking up the names he had seen and heard. He was shocked when he actually found results, people who worked, looked and acted as he had see in his mental blanket. Looking back to a 'character' he had written earlier, he searched her name and title only to find nothing. Removing the title, he found a few links, only leading to social media and writing websites. Clicking on an obscure link, he found himself on a white page with burgundy and scarlet accents. Going through the page with a description of the author, he found other sites where the most likely young adult was active.

It wasn't long before he was going through the works listed, before bookmarking the pages to go back to the word document. He didn't even realize the time till his alarm clock went off, screaming that he needed to get dressed and ready for the day despite never having had changed from the previous day's clothes. Turning off the screen without logging out, he went into the bathroom that branched off his bedroom and office.

That was apparently when his second in commands entered his bedroom to make sure that he was up and ready to go, not finding him but the lights were on. Patryck noticed Paul moving closer to the computer, giving a confused look before watching the screen light up.

"Paul! What the hell are you doing?! That's his personal computer, there could be _anything_ on there!" The darker brunette of the duo glanced to his friend for a moment before clicking through the open tabs, freezing at an open document.

"I'm going through his computer to see if it can tell me what's going on with him. He's acting out of the normal and we all know it. What's this?" Paul started scrolling through the document, being quick to send it to himself in entirety. He moved back into the room, his clothes less mussed up than they were before.

"Did you get _any_ sleep last night? You look like a car wreck." Flinching at the analogy, he shook his head. He really didn't want _those_ memories playing out before his eyes again.

"Too busy. Didn't even try to get to sleep. Didn't even change my clothes." The expression he received from Patryck was priceless, and when he felt a hand being placed against his left shoulder he sighed.

"You are getting some sleep, undress and get in bed now."

"Not my mor but okay. Have work to do though." He watched his second in command shake his head, long, medium brown hair nearly flying. He did as he was told, undressing with a bit of help when it came to his right side. He was left in his boxers for a few moments, a mirror across the room showing the full damage. His face was horribly scarred, he was lucky that his eye hadn't exploded or melted. His neck didn't get much thankfully, or he'd have been in much more trouble.

The majority of the damage was at his shoulder and down to his hip. There were scabbing injuries and what would definitely become scars trailing from his right shoulder across his chest, and his right side across his stomach. It kept him thinking, and he was almost always wishing that there was something or _someone_ in there. He knew it wouldn't be right, being the leader of an army and all, but he still missed the feeling despite it all being his imagination.

He'd have to remember to go to the med bay and use the sonogram machine to check his thoughts, if those organs existed inside of him or that was just a dream as well.

"Leave, I'll get sleep." He watched as the two nodded before leaving the room, climbing into his bed carefully before laying in the center. It was a king sized bed, and it would be able to fit ten grown adults, six comfortably. Pulling the covers over himself, he fell into slumber.

Outside the room and down the hall a bit, Paul was reading the document he had sent to himself using his phone. It took Patryck leading him around soldiers for him to not run into people on the way to their shared office. Getting into the room, the first thing Paul did was bring up the same document on his computer before pulling the other man into the computer chair.

"Paul what the hell are you doing?" The one still standing pointed to the screen, somewhere two thirds of the way down the document.

"This is the document that was up on his screen. He was up all night writing parts of this. Look right here, it's about the second half of the document but that's _us_. I can't help but think that this was what was going on in his head while he was in that coma." Paul gestured to the part in the document, almost the exact line that started the proverbial scene. Patryck looked closer to the black words on white background, digging through a desk drawer and resting wire frames against his face.

"'_**And what if you are? That doesn't mean much when we need to remove a deflector from this life.' That set him off, it was a blatant lie. The two hadn't even gone to see if he had survived the crash. Scooting forward off the bench he turned to face his past life, pulling down the black hood.**_

'_**So I'm a deflector? The guy who nearly died of blood loss on the cliff he crashed on waiting for assistance he wouldn't get? You both probably counted on me dying. But I didn't. I did my best to get help, I practically crawled back to the people I had hurt just to survive. If anyone here is a bad guy it would be you.' His emotions were working against him, trying to affect him in ways that wouldn't be any bit of helpful to the situation. His ears rang in the next second before a pain shot through his left shoulder. Gasping in pain, his right hand flew up to cover the bullet wound, his blood seeping through his fingers. His ears were ringing as he collapsed onto the ground, feeling someone keep him from hitting the ground fully.**_" The slightly shorter of the duo read aloud a portion of the writing, automatically recognising part of what was going on in the scene. The way it was described, was this what would've happened if they hadn't gone to pick him up from the crash site?

"Paul, you've read more of this than I have correct? Have you seen past this?" The large browed man nodded, scrolling down a bit further before highlighting a portion only a few paragraphs down.

"Yeah I've read maybe a page and a half further. And apparently while he was in the coma he went through two rough pregnancies at the hands of his old friends. I'm guessing that's who he was talking about when he asked about his husbands. Look there's links in the text amongst a few names, and one name has a whole text comment on it." Paul pulled up the comments as well as the full list of links, the two of them going through each webpage. They wanted to know everything that had happened so they could help him get back onto his feet sooner. If only they truly knew how.

Sneaking into the med bay wasn't the smartest idea he's had, but it would look too suspicious and it wouldn't set himself at ease to just order the staff to vacate the rooms. So here he was, hiding in a locked room with the sonogram machine. It took a few moments for him to figure out how to work it, but it was easy enough once he figured it out.

Flinching at the low temperature of the gel, he used the doppler to spread the substance against his lower abdomen. It was a little gross, especially in spots where he had scarring. Looking at the screen, he was glad that he had turned off the volume. He found what he was looking for, a small, pear shaped organ nestled low in his pelvis. So at least that wasn't a technical lie. At least he could possibly use it later on in his life. Jumping a bit as the sound system came to life, he hurried to clean up so he wouldn't be caught.

"Red Leader, please report to _your_ office as soon as possible." Oh fun, now the whole base knows he's away from his office. Leaving the small room, he gave the nurses in the med bay a glare as he left the sector, starting his way back to his own office looking like the regal leader he was but feeling like a child caught by their parent. The soldiers he passed stopped to salute him, but the attention was not wanted. Finally stepping through the door into his office, he slouched forward.

"Where were you Tord?" He was glad that his title was dropped, even if it meant that his name was used.

"I don't see how that is any of your business Patryck." He moved over to his desk, plopping into his chair and spinning around a few times.

"I beg to differ, especially since the two of us are in charge until you heal up the rest of the way and get an arm on that stump. The two of us are worried about you, about your mental state. You haven't been getting sleep, _sir_, and we've noticed how busy you've been with your computer." He froze up, first at the title and then at the mention of his private computer.

"We just want you to feel better, we want to help you feel better. And if that means grabbing your three old friends and bringing them here then we'll do it for you." He swung around to look at both of his second in command, silver eye wide in shock. That wasn't what he wanted at all, and if anything that would make his relationship with the three even worse.

"No! Abducting them wouldn't help anyone! I-I want to go there and apologize. They've probably moved on and I don't want to disrupt their lives more than I already have. Though that may not matter, if showing up may cause more problems than intended." Trailing off towards the end of the sentence, he chewed on his lip a bit. What if him showing up opened old scars? What if he wasn't given a chance to talk. Looking to the floor, he felt tears begin to perch on his eyelids.

"We'll take you then. But first you'll need to figure out what you're doing with that arm of yours." Moving his eyes to his right shoulder, he debated what was in his mind. Looking up to the duo, he bit the inside of his mouth.

"I'll need a prosthetic. I've only barely been able to do much without my right arm." Watching two nods, he gave a small smile. So plans were being made finally. He probably wouldn't be able to use the false limb for a while, so that gave him more time to finish the document.

"I'll see to it that it's built, I can see that you're already getting things figured out." Watching Paul crack a smile, he couldn't help but do the same.

"No uniforms though. We don't want to be caught by the police force, it'd be the one time they catch the proper people if you wore the army's uniforms." Watching the two laugh a bit while nodding, he couldn't help but join in. He really hoped that this would work as far as he had it figured out.

"Tord? You ready to go?" Looking up, he nodded, moving to the bed he had slept in the night before to grab his glove and black hoodie. His hair was in a low ponytail, horns out of existence so he couldn't be recognized by that. Pulling on the glove to cover his right hand, he fixed how his hoodie was on his person. It was a little tight on his body, but he didn't mind it. Looking over to the other two, he gave a weak smile, anticipating any reaction from the three they were going to see, well any reaction other than a good one.

The three of them left the motel room, heading out onto the street. Holding a paper up so he could see the address of the building the three lived in, he looked around, a bit discombobulated on which way they needed to go. It felt like years since he's been in London, and he needed to hand the paper to Patryck to look up. It was another few minutes before they made it to the apartment building and found the correct floor. He felt his heart pounding in his chest, fear and anticipation coming forefront. Stepping up towards one of the doors, he could hear talking and laughter through the wooden surface. He wanted to turn away, to do anything but his plan, but he was determined to get this over with. So he lifted his left hand to knock on the door, his hood covering his face.

"Hello?" The door had opened, and he had to will away the tears. He could cry later, but he needed to be strong. Glancing up, he saw the confused expression across the dark brunette's face.

"Edd? Who's at the door?" Watching as two more people moved closer, he used his left hand to hold the front of his hoodie. It was now or never. Moving his right arm to pull the hood down, he looked to the three on the other side of the door before it nearly slammed against his face. The action had him dazed, and he felt hands on his shoulders. There was yelling on the other side of the door, himself being moved a bit down the hall to calm down. He barely noticed the apartment door open, and the only thing that brought his attention back was the footsteps towards him.

"I'm assuming you came to talk. Come on, bet you three don't want to get figured out standing out here." He was shocked by the offer, but still nodded and followed into the apartment. He fidgeted a bit before being directed to sit, noticing how Paul and Patryck sat down on either side of him.

"Who dug it out of the dumpster? Looks like absolute shit." He glanced over to Tom before looking away, his mind was all over the place.

"Tom, shut the hell up."

"Why are you here anyway? Thought you…" Watching Matt, he flinched a little as he remembered having punched the ginger in the eye. Sitting up a little more, he took a breath.

"I… I wanted to apologize, for everything." He was stopped from talking for a moment, first by speech then by Edd standing.

"Oh really? You're a little late for that, huh? Over a year late." Watching the dark brunette place tape over Tom's mouth, he almost laughed.

"I said shut up Tom. Let him speak." He decided to attempt to grab the attention again while Tom tried and failed to pull the adhesive material from his mouth.

"He's right, I am late in giving an apology. But there's a reason why." Pausing for a moment, he felt all eyes on him. "I was so badly wounded after the… robot… was shot down and I lost so much blood. I was in a coma for a year. My injuries, which cover from my hairline to just above my thigh on the right side, got extremely infected many times from what I was told. My right arm was removed due to being unsalvageable. But that all isn't meant as an excuse, just an explanation on why it took so long. I did so much harm to all three of you, physical and emotional over the years. It was all uncalled for and unnecessary. I've come to apologize for everything I've ever done, from way back when we were still in highschool to what happened a year and a half ago and even now. I don't want forgiveness, I don't deserve it from you." He could feel the tears begin falling down both cheeks, the flood of salty tears running through and over each scar. It was a shock for him to be pulled into two, one-armed hugs by the men on either side of him.

"Is that everything?" Nodding, he watched the other three stand. "We're going into the other room, don't touch anything." The other trio left the room, himself trying to wipe his eyes with the sleeves of his hoodie. He probably looked like an absolute mess. Hearing some yelling, he flinched back a little, his right arm gripping the black fabric. He was trying to calm down, but nothing seemed to be working this time.

"So, what do you two think about this? I for one believe that he is telling the truth, but at the same time I don't trust him." Edd crossed his arms over his chest, looking to his two best friends.

"He's probably faking the tears, and who's to say he isn't faking those scars. He's lied to and tricked us all before, who's to say he won't do it again?" Tom had a point but that seemed too harsh.

"Guys! I might not remember much past a few years, but shit those aren't fake emotions. I barely remember the guy but if he was faking everything why would he even come here. He's a wanted criminal correct? Why risk getting captured and arrested to do something he didn't need or want to do. He said not to forgive him because he doesn't think he deserves any type of forgiveness, because he knows he ruined our lives and his relationship with each of us. I'm not saying that we should forgive and forget, fuck no. But that we shouldn't just dismiss all he's said as false. None of us are brainless, and we're as human as we can be with corrupted genes. Nobody's perfect, not even me, we're all shitty people from time to time." Blue-green eyes were open in annoyance, the ginger obviously annoyed by the previous conversation. Tom had stepped back a pace at those words, Edd's eyes widening at the powerful words. Neither had ever heard the other speak like that, but the words weren't incorrect. In fact they were some of the truest words spoken by any of them.

"I think that makes the choice for us huh? Otherwise we're the arseholes and hypocrites." Edd gave a weak smile, reaching his left hand to grab his right arm. "Doesn't mean we forgive him, let alone trust him, but we'll let him come around from time to time. He's going to have to earn those overtime."

Back in the other room, he had managed to calm down as best as he could, both eyes red from the tears. Watching the three enter the room again, he was overcome by the most fear he's had in his system for years. Standing from where he had been seated, he felt crowded as the five persons in the room stood on all sides.

"We _don't _forgive you, nor do we trust you. You're going to have to earn those back." They had him in the first half, himself expecting to be threatend and kicked out. But that didn't happen. "Yeah, that means you can come around now and then. We've all hurt each other in one way or another, just took a bad turn the most recent time. But you've gotta tell us whatever you're hiding. Think about it as the three of us being your parole officers, or overly attached boyfriends. We want to know everything you do outside basic daily functions."

"Edd what the hell, don't call us that." Tom's response to the analogy made him laugh for the first time in a while.

"Of course, I don't mind. But just a warning, there are things that I cannot say. I have tens of thousands of people whose safety depends on me. I hope that makes sense…" He played with the fabric glove on his right arm, giving a small smile in embarrassment.

"Okay, that's the only time we aren't going to require you to explain. Now, there's something involving all of us that you're trying to keep from explaining. Stop hiding it and talk." Flinching a little, he watched as Paul and Patryck left the room, Matt moving to take the seat on his right.

"Can I see your arm and side? I want to see all the damage that Tom technically caused."

"Hey! It was spur of the moment and if I didn't he would've taken over the world in the worst way possible." Laughing softly at Tom's indignant speech, he nodded.

"Sure just a moment. And well, I only finished writing up what I had gone through while I was in the coma a few weeks ago. It was a lot, and all four of us had a big part in it. It's all really weird, especially at certain times, but it was actually something that could've happened. I can send the link to you three, but it is long as anything." Blushing a little bit, he removed his hoodie and t-shirt, the heavy scarring now visible from his waistband up. Being quick to bring the document up on his phone, he handed it to the two on the other couch to start reading. He could feel a pair of soft hands moving lightly across his side and shoulder, going pink as the fingers traced along the scars reaching furthest across his chest.

"This is some crazy stuff Tord. Haven't even gotten fat in and I can already see where part of this is going. It's written weirdly though." He looked up, blinking a few times.

"I didn't really go back to edit, didn't seem necessary. I can clarify things if you want me to, everything is still so vivid in my mind." Watching the other nod, he felt his right arm being moved and messed with.

"Your arm is so cool. Do you have full control over it?" Shaking his head, he gave a smile as he showed the ginger the small parts of his prosthetic arm. The fingers didn't move with the ease they should have been, but he enjoyed watching the oceans in the taller's eyes sparkle in wonderment. It wasn't going to be easy to get their trust back, but he'd keep going till it worked.

He wasn't getting the life that he had lived through once in his comatose state, and many times since in his imagination, but he'd try to work with what was given to him. It'll never be the same, but neither was any other turn their lives could have taken. Who knew how many worlds were out there that held the group of them. But he'd be so glad to hear about them himself, all the stories and happenings. He couldn't tell the future, but he'd be ready for anything it threw at him.

Speaking of the future, he had to remember to contact that author again.

4952 Words

*Bows* And that's the end. I am done.

Here's to burning my ladder to fame, just imagine that I'm holding up a bottle of sparkling grape juice. Wine tastes nasty.

Karma Doesn't Hate You started [as a whole, via AO3] June 29th, 2017.

This was finished April 14th, 2019. [Posted April 17th, 2019]

Nearly two whole years, thank you all for staying so long.

Sad to say but this is the end of this timeline. I had fun while it lasted. Unless I decide to dig up this grave, there will be no more added.

Thank you all again,

Mari, Redd, Edd [4/14/2019, 1:18 AM Est.]


End file.
